


Measure in Love

by lovepeaceohana



Category: Enchanted (2007)
Genre: Crossover, Multi, Threesome - F/F/M, alternative universe
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-12-13
Updated: 2010-12-13
Packaged: 2017-10-13 15:58:56
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,161
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/139060
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lovepeaceohana/pseuds/lovepeaceohana
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>AU/crossover-ish. Nancy used to be known as Maureen Johnson, but has since moved on from that life to settle into adulthood. This is the story of what might have happened if she'd come across Giselle first.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Measure in Love

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ordinarygirl](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ordinarygirl/gifts).



Nancy has only lived in New York City for eleven years, but she’s still pretty sure she’s seen everything it has to offer. From a young twenty-something waiting tables in between pieces of live performance art, living _la vie boheme_ with a special eye for the ironic, to a still-young thirty-something working overtime at a flourishing design firm catering primarily to would-be aristocrats and nonprofits looking for a leg up, she’s been there, done that. Started a riot? Check. Nearly arrested for sex in public? Check. Broken into her own apartment after having been evicted by her girlfriend? Check.

And in that time, of course, she’s known, biblically and platonically, her fair share of freaks and geeks, in all shades of the rainbow and along various points of the gender spectrum. All of it from this side of thirty seems so naïve, a bunch of people looking to be lonely together and too self-righteous to act with genuine compassion. She’s learned that lesson the hard way. So it’s not that she’s jaded, she tells herself: just that she can see the world for what it is, now, instead of always living in her own personal fantasy of how it ought to be.

Which is why she’s surprised, and yet not, when she is practically run over by some redheaded skinny bitch in a poufy white wedding dress that would put Disney designers to shame. It’s not even the girl herself that knocks Nancy to the side; rather, the voluminous layers of her skirts have definite opinions about their rightful place in the world, and Nancy is apparently not part of that esteemed arrangement.

“Watch it, sister,” she snaps as she tries to slip her heels back on, and what _does_ come as a shock to her is the absolutely genuine look of horror on the other woman’s face as she sees what has happened.

“I am _so sorry_ ,” she says fervently, eyes wide and shining with tears ( _tears!_ ), and stretches out a hand to help. Nancy can’t reach it, of course, since it doesn’t extend beyond the diameter of the dress (and where the hell did she even get something that tacky? Much less get _into_ it?).

And before Nancy quite knows what has happened, the woman is full-on crying, hands clasping ineffectually at her dress and babbling something about having missed her wedding to her One True Love (Nancy can hear the capital letters) and a not-very-nice little old man stealing her tiara. “I just want to go home!” she cries, and then it starts raining and Nancy can’t think of anything else to do except bring her home.

+++

She wakes far earlier than Giselle, who is still crashed out on the couch in that ridiculous dress. It seems a shame to wake her, so Nancy leaves a note instead. _Help yourself to the fridge, and give a holler if you need._ She leaves her cell number and work number, just in case, and adjusts her suit one more time before heading out. She’s supposed to be taking Robert’s daughter to school this morning, just the two of them.

After five years of dating, she thinks it’s damn well time. She has sympathy for them, of course – how often has she had her heart broken, or been the one to break another’s? – but Morgan is a strong girl, and frankly she thinks Robert just needs to get over it. She’s a smart girl, too, and Nancy’s sure she’s figured out that Daddy’s special friend is probably here to stay. Or so she hopes: there’s been lots of late-night discussions about the possibility of marriage, like they’re talking about a business merger instead of a relationship with two human beings. She loves him, but he can be so _practical_ sometimes, it makes her want to shake him. He acts like all the romance went out of the world with his first wife.

When she comes home early that afternoon on her lunch break, her apartment is meticulously clean, and Giselle is in the kitchen fiddling with something in the oven. Nancy approaches her carefully, experience having taught her not to startle the strays she brings home, and notices over the heavenly smell of chocolate chip cookies that the redhead is wearing a completely different dress. Nancy squints: the pattern looks _familiar_.

But she disregards it, and thanks Giselle for the damn-good cookies, and talks to her about her options for going home. None of what she says makes any sense, and Nancy feels a sort of incredulity overtake her as Giselle describes having lived in the Forest of Feelings, just beyond the Valley of Contentment. She tells Nancy that she needn’t worry so much, because she’s sure her prince will come for her, and the hope in her eyes is so undimmed that Nancy can’t bring herself to say otherwise. She’s obviously gone, this one, quite far gone, but if she was wandering the streets she obviously needs help, and Nancy knows she isn’t going to get it through city services.

She resolves to look up some old friends when she returns to work, and in the meantime calls Robert to give him a heads-up. She wants to take Giselle with them to dinner, thinking that maybe being around other adults will be comforting to her. Robert says sure.

At work, she gets in touch with Mark, who promises to look into a community living arrangement he’s heard of that might suit her needs. She picks up Giselle, they go to dinner, Robert is his usual charming, polite self, and she finds out that Giselle is pretty damn hilarious – unintentionally, probably, but she seems to have a knack for riling up Robert in a way that Nancy has never quite managed.

“It’s like she walked out of a Hallmark card,” he mutters to Nancy as he kisses her goodnight.

Giselle sleeps on her couch again, and Nancy gets an unexpected answer to the question of the other woman’s dress when she draws the curtains for the night. She’s still left wondering where she managed to find a needle and thread, but figures that can wait til morning.

+++

The next day, thankfully, is a Saturday, and since Nancy doesn’t have any pressing overtime to take care of she decides to take Giselle out on the town. Nothing too fancy, of course, just a stroll in the park and a visit to her favorite trattoria. She figures on seeing Robert later in the afternoon, once he’s finished the meeting with his client over a particularly nasty divorce case he’s been handling lately.

Giselle is ecstatic to be taken out, and somehow manages to conjure a fully-loaded picnic basket while Nancy is in the bathroom. Nancy decides it’s better not to know.

At the park, Nancy tries to glean a little more information from Giselle about herself. She might as well be talking to Santa Claus. Growing up in a forest, tended by woodland creatures, rescued from a troll by her One True Love and to have been married the very next day – the _very_ next day! – it’s a bit much to take in, really. Nancy unexpectedly finds herself both exasperated by and jealous of Giselle’s ability to shut everything away except for her fated happily-ever-after with this Edward fellow, although as she listens to her wax eloquently, even lyrically, about his many luminous qualities, exasperation is definitely winning out.

“Look, girl,” she says finally as they settle into the grass. “I’m happy for you, really. But you know there’s more to life than just tying the knot, right? I mean, don’t you have dreams of your own?”

Giselle pauses thoughtfully, a cucumber sandwich poised halfway to her lips. “Well, of course,” she replies slowly. A smile spreads across her face. “I had a most wonderful dream, of a handsome man with a beautiful smile, and I just _know_ he’s my True Love.”

“Uh huh.”

“But I do,” she insists. “Just like you know that Robert is _your_ True Love, right? And once you share True Love’s Kiss, _nothing_ will be able to separate you. It’s the most powerful thing in the _world_.”

Nancy nearly chokes on her sandwich, so sudden and unexpected is the peal of laughter that erupts from her throat. Giselle looks politely confused. “Oh, babe,” Nancy wheezes, and puts out a hand to steady herself. It lands on Giselle’s shoulder, and Nancy is suddenly taken with the oddest notion that it feels – nice. She shakes her head to clear it.

“If all it took was one hell of a kiss, _believe_ me, I’ve got True Loves scattered all over this damn city,” she says, and tries not to laugh all over again at the nearly scandalized look on Giselle’s face.

“But – that’s not the way the story goes,” Giselle says eventually. Nancy thinks that some of her determination must have returned, because her eyes are at full sparkle.

“There are lots of stories, babe,” she says.

“Tell me, then,” says Giselle, and Nancy does, intrigued by this unexpected show of backbone. She tells her about Mark, and Joanne, and reaches further back into her memory than even them: Andy, Tom, Jac, Carla, Gwen, a parade of faces and names she barely remembers, and all those nameless drunken one-night-onlys; the live performances at Shortbus with the guy in the fursuit; her first rocky relationship in high school with Elizabeth and her boyfriend Adam.

As she goes on she can see something changing in the way that Giselle is looking at her, although it looks more curious than condemning. When Nancy asks if she’s okay, Giselle says yes, of course, in that quiet voice of hers that Nancy already knows means she is thinking something over. Their moment is interrupted by a phone call from Robert, who is out of his meeting and wants to know if he and Morgan can meet up with them. She tells him sure, gives him an approximate of their location, and hangs up.

They have a grand time, and Nancy is absurdly pleased when Giselle busts out an impromptu tune right there at the Central Park fountain, even more so when random passers-by join in, and by the time the whole thing culminates in badly-choreographed finery she and Morgan are cheering and clapping and whistling, while Robert looks on with an utterly lost expression. It absolutely makes up for having to come up with an explanation that satisfies Giselle as to why hot dogs are called such if they do not actually contain dog. And for the crying bout once Giselle hears what Robert does for a living, but that one is mostly covered by Robert’s endearingly awkward attempts to soothe her without being inappropriate about it. Nancy just rolls her eyes and cradles Giselle in her arms until the other woman is down to sniffles from outright sobbing, and suggests that they go out for chocolate fondue before Robert and Morgan have to head home.

By the time she and Giselle have returned home for the night, Nancy finds herself thinking (selfishly, but she feels she’s allowed) that possibly it’s for the best that Edward is either a complete fabrication or impossibly far away. She rather likes having Giselle around.

+++

The next week is filled with taking Morgan to school in the mornings, having lunch with Giselle, and having dinner with Robert and Giselle and Morgan at Robert’s place. Giselle is an astonishingly good cook and even though Nancy’s drapes, sheets, and shower curtain are practically useless, she feels it’s a decent enough trade for heavenly food and coming home to a shiny-new apartment.

Robert even offers to take Giselle out for lunch on Thursday, and because Nancy is in the middle of a creative furor she lets him. The back of her mind tries to become suspicious, but she ignores it, just as she ignores the tiny tang of jealousy she feels when Robert and Morgan drop Giselle off for the night and Morgan wraps a hug around Giselle’s flowing skirt.

When Mark calls to tell her about the home he’d been talking about, Nancy tells him thanks, but she’s got it covered.

+++

On a whim that may or may not have been inspired by finding that even her towels are not safe, Nancy takes Giselle to Mood.

They spend way more money than they ought to, but even Robert has to admit that Giselle looks better in tulle than terrycloth. Morgan gets a new dress for her birthday, Nancy gets a new dress just because, and preens when everyone at the office oohs and aahs at it. She starts to ask Giselle’s opinion on certain design commissions, and learns that Giselle’s golden hand extends to graphic works too. They collaborate more and more often, until eventually Nancy hires her outright, because it seems a shame not to. She just hopes that Giselle doesn’t want to design her wedding dress; Robert has been hinting that he wants to propose any day now.

It's another month before she notices that Giselle has stopped talking about Edward.

+++

For Nancy’s birthday, Robert takes her and Giselle out for dinner at Tony’s, leaving Morgan with the sitter. They get a great big pizza and salad and breadsticks to share, and have a friendly argument over whether to fold the slices before consuming them. They order a chocolate hazelnut gelato for dessert, and Giselle looks on with a sort of wistfulness in her eyes as Robert offers Nancy the first bite.

It seems only polite for her to offer the next to Giselle, who accepts it with grace and a smile that is decidedly less wicked than Nancy’s. Robert looks between the two of them and is on the verge of saying something when Giselle lifts her spoon to him, offering him gelato in turn, and when he accepts it and starts laughing the absurdity of the moment breaks over them. They take turns feeding each other the rest of the gelato – Robert gets creative and makes a game of it, and tells them not to use their hands – and then it’s messy and playful and wonderful, and Nancy thinks she’s never had a better birthday.

+++

It’s the evening of the Kings and Queens ball, and Robert surprises Nancy with tickets. Giselle is going too, of course; having had a hand in the design of each of their costumes, it seemed wrong somehow not to. Privately, Nancy thinks that this _must_ be the night: it’s just not like Robert to do something as blatantly romantic as take her to a ball.

She’s not sure how things begin to go wrong, but it all seems to have something to do with the strange lady in black who disappeared into the elevator, and Giselle is lying on the floor, paler than usual and cool to the touch when Nancy checks the pulse at her throat.

“How is she?” Robert asks, wringing his hands.

Her pulse is faint, but fluttering. “Alive, at least,” Nancy says, and shouts for someone to call an ambulance. She motions for Robert to lift Giselle’s thin frame onto a fainting couch someone has brought in, and doesn’t even notice the irony. She's looking at the apple in Giselle’s hand, with a single bite taken out of it. She nudges Robert.

“It can’t be,” he says with a shake of his head.

But Nancy’s brain is working so fast she’s almost dizzy, puzzling things out and fitting them back together, and when has anything about Giselle been fucking _normal_? “Just kiss her, Robert,” she barks, voice made frantic with the seconds speeding by. How long can someone go without breathing before they get brain damage? She’s not sure Giselle can afford much more.

Robert gives her a look, which she matches, and then he leans over and plants his lips on Giselle’s. Hope flares irrationally in Nancy’s chest, but nothing changes, she’s still laying there not breathing and now Robert looks even more lost, like even he’d thought it might work.

“That’s not the way the story goes,” she whispers. “Oh, Giselle. Come back, girl.”

There’s a crowd gathered now, as the other guests have been so kind as to take notice of their plight, but Nancy can’t spare the energy to tell them to mind their own fucking business if they’re not going to make themselves useful.

She hears Robert takes a breath. “You try,” he says.

Nancy looks at him. He doesn’t look away.

She looks back at Giselle’s face, trying and failing to imagine arranging her funeral, trying and failing to imagine a world without her in it, trying and failing imagining how to explain any of this to Morgan, who’s already lost one mother and has come to regard Giselle as something of a fairytale princess, or maybe a fairy godmother.

She thinks about Giselle as she looked this morning, sitting across from Nancy as they painted each other’s toes and giggled like schoolgirls. She was radiant, as usual, and chattering happily about the latest project they were working on, and Nancy had thought just for a moment that maybe Robert didn’t need to propose after all. Then she’d chastised herself for disloyalty, because she’d _learned_ , dammit.

In the moment, though, it’s the memory of a poor, wet, cold, _lost_ Giselle wandering the streets of New York City in that stupid poufy wedding dress that makes her do it. She hadn’t let her down then, she wouldn’t let her down now.

She kisses her.

+++

The year storms by in a furious flurry of planning and procrastinating, finding just the right linens and not-arguing with Giselle over the font on the invitations. They camp at Robert’s place and invite Morgan in to help design the bridesmaids' gowns, and hammer and bang at the form of a ceremony for two until it fully incorporates the three of them.

Robert makes partner, and pulls fewer overtime hours, and the salary bonus is enough to splurge on a honeymoon to Hawai’i. Morgan will come too – Hawai’i is her choice, after all.

When they'd finally gotten around to talking about what had happened at the ball - after Robert hadn't spoken to her for a week, only saying that he needed time to think things over - he'd told her that she couldn’t have it all. He wouldn't make her choose; he was willing to walk away. It had taken another week to convince him to give it a chance, and another several weeks to show him that it worked. The wedding was his way of saying that he _needed_ it to work, that he was willing to go to great lengths to keep them all together.

As Nancy glances up from the latest program layouts to look around at her family (Robert teaching Morgan to play chess, Giselle taking over the couch with several different fabric swatches and muttering to herself), she is immensely grateful that he’d been so wrong.


End file.
